Ace Combat: The Grey Men
by heat3000
Summary: Six months after the end of the Circum-Pacific War, the Osean Federation launches a campaign of vengeance to bring "The Grey Men" to justice. With the old cast of AC5 acting as fire support, can the Oseans successfully catch these criminals?
1. Prologue

**ACE COMBAT: THE GREY MEN**

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of this fanfiction. All characters and locations are owned or inspired by Namco's Ace Combat series. All aircraft described are not of my creation and are the property of their designer company.

**PROLOGUE**

"_Somewhere in the ocean of memory lies a divide. A divide between regret and realization – the barrier between the two is insignificant, but the effects are several magnitudes apart. On one hand, you become aware of the situation around you and time slows down to a trickle as you process information freely. You see things that aren't there and yet they are. The ability to predict and the ability to see are two totally different concepts, yet they are fundamental in the ace – the only kind of human able to become truly aware of his surroundings._

_Everyone else. The ones who regret...they're the ones who got shot down."_

Captain Marcus Snow, OMDF, VFA-206 "Shorebirds" Squadron. 2013 debriefing

Smoke filled a conference room in a bunker somewhere outside Oured. Wood paneling lined the walls and a small projector was hanging overhead, warming up gradually as the bureaucrats stalked into the room. There were four of them in presidential style suits and another two that looked like they were from the Osean Intelligence Agency, wearing military-styled uniforms but no visible unit badges. They sat across the table from Captain Grimm and his men.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said the tallest of the men in suits. He had an Osean flag lapel pin and thick, horn-rimmed glasses and was the only one of the six men who didn't carry of briefcase. "I am Senator Howe, it's a pleasure to meet you all today."

He extended his arm, allowing the captain to shake his hand, but only for a moment.

"Shall we get started?"

The lights in the room dimmed and soon there was nothing but a small white rectangle visible from where the projector's light hit the wall.

"Let's get down to business gentlemen. You are some of the finest aces this nation has to offer. I've reviewed your dossiers and I must say I am very pleased with what I see – Captain Hans Grimm, OADF, 219th "Warhawk" Squadron. Based out of Heierlark Air Base, participated in the Circum-Pacific War as a member of the Razgriz squadron.

"Captain Kei Nagase, OADF, 333rd tactical fighter squadron based out of Port St. Hewlett. Participated in the Circum-Pacific War as a member of the Razgriz squadron.

"Major Marcus Snow, OMDF, VFA-206 "Shorebirds" squadron based out of Port St. Hewlett. Participated in the Circum-Pacific War as a member of the OFS _Kestrel_ defense group.

"And finally Lieutenant Mark Upham. 715th strategic bomb squadron based out of Myers Air Base, top of your class for the Osean Air Force Academy, 2009 and participated in the Circum-Pacific War as a member of the 63rd AWACS flight wing, call sign "Thunderhead.

"We have assembled you here today for a single purpose. I will now allow Colonel Pelham from the OIA to brief you."

One of the intelligence officers stood up and saluted the four airmen before taking a remote control from his pocket and pointing it at the projector. The panel changed from a blank white slate to a picture of eight men, all in front of a large stone building with the words "Gründer Industries" displayed prominently on the building's edifice as well as the caption.

"As I'm sure you are all intimately aware, the war between Yuktobania and Osea was the sole responsibility of a group of influential Belkans known only as 'The Grey Men'. This picture was snapped two days after the breakout of hostilities between Yuktobania and Osea – as you can see..." the colonel turned on a laser pointer and aimed it at a suitcase being carried by one of the men.

"No..."

"Incredible."

"Is...is that?"

On the briefcase were the numbers 8492.

"The field agent that sent us this intelligence stopped transmitting data to our headquarters in Apito one week later. Before then, he successfully identified the gentleman with the briefcase as Herman Schroeder – the Belkan Army's Chief of Staff. The gentleman to his right is Maximillius Weber – the Belkan Minister of Defense and the man on Schroeder's left is Walter van Braun – the Chief Operations Officer of Gründer Industries".

Captain Grimm broke the monotony of the colonel's voice by popping his hand in the air and standing up to speak, motioning towards the display on the wall.

"So it's a bunch of defense ministry guys meeting with the heads of Gründer Industries. Even though Gründer financed the war by selling munitions to both sides, what does that have to do with these guys? The Assembly of Nations has already-"

"The Assembly of Nations tried and convicted those officials who signed off on the arms deals to Yuktobania and Osea, such as Gründer CEO Marcus Siemens or Belkan Prime Minister Lucas Paine. However, they have never dealt justice to those that plotted the war and designed Belka's vengeance...the men you see here. That is them. These are 'The Grey Men'.

"_Herman Schroeder – Chief of Staff of the Belkan Army_

_Maximillius Weber – Belkan Minister of Defense (2007-2010)_

_Walter van Braun – COO of Gründer Industries_

_Daniel Paxton – Chief of Staff to the Belkan President (2009-2010)_

_Jacob van Braun – Head of Gründer Industries Aircraft design team_

_Erich Eichelburger – Chief of Staff of the Belkan Air Force_

_Michael Berg – Belkan Minister of Information_

_Heinrich Zimmer – Four-star general, commander of the 3rd Belkan Army"_

"These are the men we believe are responsible for the execution of the Circum-Pacific War – a war which left thousands of our countrymen dead and forever scarred our relationship with the only other superpower on this planet. It's time we took our revenge..."

Nagase seemed uneased, she shifted in her chair a few times before speaking up to the colonel.

"Colonel...this...doesn't seem right. Revenge for revenge? What exactly do you have in mind for these men?"

"Captain Nagase, the answer to that is quite simple – we plan on killing each and every one of these men for their crimes ag-"

"Then I won't have any part of this. I won't take another life. We fought in that war to ensure peace, not to start another!"

Her lips were quivering and she sounded shaken. With the war so fresh in their minds, and peace so fragile, how could anyone be thinking of starting another war so soon?

"Then you have my assurances, Captain Nagase, that you will not have to kill anyone, nor will these two."

Senator Howe stood up and swept his arm across the table, swinging past the four pilots to include the two intelligence officers in his arch.

"Executive command, by order of President Harling, has been placed under Brigadier General Larry Cipher. I think you should know him more by the call sign 'Blaze'."

At the mention of the word, all four of them craned their necks towards the senator. His lapel pin was shining in the dimly lit room, and the stunned faces of the intelligence officers were staring at him as well.

"I will have my aides pass your briefing packets to you now. Colonel Pelham and Lieutenant Whitcomb will act as the ground forces for this operation, codenamed 'Valkyrie'. You four shall assist them and provide air cover when necessary, including deep insertions into Belkan territory to assist in the capture of these men. They will not be harmed, Captain Nagase, but will be brought to the light of Osean justice.

"You swear this to me, senator?" Nagase said as she picked up the packet and waved it in the air, "you swear to me that no one must die?"

"No one is going to die. However, you will be expected to destroy any hostile targets that threaten the mission objection. I understand if you have any hesitation and you may opt out at any time. However, for the sake of a continued peace, we cannot allow Belka to orchestrate another war!"

There was silence in the room. The four pilots looked at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Major Snow was the first to reply.

"I'm in."

"So am I," said Grimm, standing up and looking at Nagase.

"As am I," said Upham.

"We've got three sets of wings, all we need is a fourth," Grimm said.

Nagase paused. She looked into the briefing packet. Inside it had maps and mission details. Entire logs about the personal and professional lives of their targets as well as entry and exit routes for their planes.

"For peace. That is the only reason I'm going to agree. For peace."

She closed her eyes and sat down. The senator nodded his head as the pilots took their seats.

"Blaze..."

"Hm? You say something Nagase?"

"Huh? Oh...nothing, Grimm..."

"Well then. Now that we have everybody on board to the task at hand, let's begin your briefing for your first assignment: Herman Schroeder..."


	2. Prelude to Schroeder

**ACE COMBAT: THE GREY MEN**

Author's Note: This fanfic will be divided into two alternating parts. Chapters will be broken up separately and based around either the point of view of the fighter pilots (denoted by a chapter beginning with [OADF]) and the intelligence officers (denoted by [OIA]). I wanted to give more depth to the Ace Combat universe and my fanfic, which is why I won't remain with our favorite aces all the time throughout the story.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of this fanfiction. All characters and locations are owned or inspired by Namco's Ace Combat series. All aircraft described are not of my creation and are the property of their designer company and/or Namco.

**OIA MISSION LOG 06-06-2011**

**HEIERLARK AIR BASE**

**LUBINA, OSEAN FEDERATION, 04:00**

"Hey Colonel...have you ever dreamt of being up there? You know – with the flyboys?" Lieutenant Whitcomb asked, pointing to the black fighter jets on the tarmac, their distinctive flaming red "Razgriz" emblems reflecting the moonlight.

"No and I don't want to," replied the colonel, taking the cigar out of his mouth and flicking it outside of the helicopter before closing the door. As the helicopter began to vibrate more and more he could sense they were ready to take off, so he pointed at the other side door of their Blackhawk helicopter for the lieutenant to close.

"You want one?" the colonel asked, pulling a small leather cigar case from his breast pocket and stuffing it into Whitcomb's face.

"Uh...no thank you colonel."

"This is your first op, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Then you're going to need it," the colonel said, throwing the case into the lieutenant's lap before turning his head to look out the window. Even in the summer, Heierlark's high altitude made the air frigid, and the colonel could see a bit of frost beginning to form on the window as they climbed higher and higher into the mountain range.

The Varga Mountains, where Heierlark was located, demarcated the boundary between the Osean states of Penton and North Osea – otherwise known as South Belka. Although North Osea was inside the boundaries of the Osean Federation, the general population was still very much loyal to Belka. _Any_ military activity inside North Osea could give away their mission and alert the Belkan military. The only way to infiltrate Belka stealthily would be to fly through the ravines of the Varga Mountains. Between the end of the Vargas and the beginning of the Yelling Mountain Range leading inside Belka there was a ten mile wide plain dotted with craters.

"They call it 'Death Valley'," the colonel said, looking out the window as the helicopter arched to the right.

"What was that, sir?"

"The valley between the Vargas and Yelling mountains. The Belkans call it Death Valley. Just a few years ago, there were over one hundred thousand souls living there...now..."

"Hm? What happened?"

"Between the nukes and Ulysses..." the colonel stopped and shook his head. "Nothing but tragedy lies in the North."

As the helicopter descended into the ravines and twisted with the rock walls, a twinkle of light could be seen from atop one of the nearby mountains.

"That's the Keeling Observatory – the first site in the world to spot Ulysses, back when it was a distant star."

"You certainly know a lot about the history of this area, colonel. Was it covered in your training?" Whitcomb asked. He put the cigar case in his breast pocket. The lieutenant didn't smoke, but he was an OIA agent now. He wasn't trained to fight for his country. He was trained to murder – slowly molded into a master of the art and given the tools necessary to make a masterpiece of his work.

"Did anyone ever tell you that I'm half Belkan?" the colonel asked. Whitcomb snapped his head to attention. The pilots seemed to tighten their grip on the control sticks.

"N – no...I hadn't realized that, sir."

"My mother immigrated to Osea from the Belkan capital of Dinsmark. My father was an Osean politician – the mayor of November City at the time. She broke down in horror at the end of the last war..."

"..."

"She committed suicide ten days later when she learned that her brothers had died in the nuclear detonations. My father consequentially dropped out of the elections that year and became an alcoholic. These men...these "Grey Men" that orchestrated the war and murdered my family...I'm going to make them pay for their crimes."

The colonel took out a flask, taking a long drink from it before the roar of nearby jet engines could be heard. The pilots remained silent while Lieutenant Whitcomb could only stare at the colonel.

"Foxtrot One-Bravo, this is Razgriz One, callsign Archer, do you read me?"

"Roger that, Archer, Foxtrot One-Bravo reads you loud and clear."

"We're coming in at vector two-seven-zero. Altitude three hundred meters above the deck, we'll be escorting you until grid sector Zulu X-Ray Six."

The pilots were absorbed with their radio traffic with Grimm, allowing the lieutenant to lean in towards the colonel to ask, "is that why you're on this mission?"

"No."

A pause, then the helicopter was engulfed in low altitude clouds and emerged to blinding sunlight.

"I was assigned because I'm the best assassin our country has and I'm proud of it. I figured if we're going to work together we should at least get to know each other. Or do you young agents not do such things anymore?"

The lieutenant paused for a moment, looking out the window to see four black angels of death barreling towards them, ready to escort them into the land beyond Armageddon.

"Me?" he said, still staring at the four wings of Razgriz. "My parents both came to Osea as refugees from Ustio. Before I joined the OIA I'd never even left my hometown. Damn. To be honest, my trip to Angel Island was the first time I'd even seen-"

"Where was it?"

"Huh? Angel Island? Weren't you trained there, too? It's the main OIA-"

"No. No. Your hometown, where was it?" the colonel asked, smiling faintly and offering the flask to Whitcomb.

"Oh! It was Rutherford, just a few hundred miles south! When I was in high school my mom wanted to move to Sudentor, to be closer to Ustio, but an Ustian in a Belkan city? Could you imagi – I mean...sorry."

"No harm done. I don't particularly care for my Belkan roots anyway."

"Well..."

As the two men continued to chat in their solitary flight, another man sat in a newsroom, far away from the winds of war and storms of murder.

**Osean Broadcasting Corporation Headquarters**

**Oured, Osea**

"There he is!"

"'Atta Boy!"

"Hey! Look who's here!"

Albert Genette walked into his office a day after his documentary on the Belkan War hit Osean televisions. OBC has been advertising it as a gripping, never-before-seen report on the onset and fighting of the war. Over fifty million Oseans tuned into the primetime broadcast, making Genette an instant national celebrity.

"Whoa! Whoa! Guys, calm down!"

His coworkers had come in early to arrange a party in his honor.

"Three cheers for our new anchorman!"

"Settle down, guys! It really was nothing. It was good work for me."

"More than good work, Genette."

"Oh, Sam, hey!"

Samantha Iccard was the company's public relations manager. Twenty-eight, single, and a siren's voice made her the most sought after commodity in all of Oured.

"Listen, Genette. That documentary wasn't just 'good work' – it revitalized public interest in the last war and now we're in a great position to take advantage of that," she said, taking out a manila folder from behind her back and showing him the volume of calls to OBC's information center during the broadcast.

"We'd like you to do a special report from within Belka, gathering their views and history of the war – and since you were such a great go-to guy for source material for the Circum-Pacific War, we'd like you to expand your domain into the Belkan War – all aspects of it."

"I don't know, Sam...I've been putting together materials regarding the Belkan War together for the past few years now. I think I know enough about it."

"Then consider this," she said, motioning for everyone in the office to leave – killing the revelry searching her purse for a pair of reading glasses. She closed the door after everyone had left the room.

"You and I both know that the Belkans were responsible for the last war – the OIA contacted us and asked for you."

"Me?"

"I was surprised too. You're the guy who was embedded with the Razgriz squadron after they disappeared. You were the guy that just released the most significant documentary of the decade. Everyone from Delarus to Dinsmark knows your name."

"What That's nonsense! I'm just-"

"A reporter? Genette...they want you to gather information for the OIA under the guise of a new documentary."

He stared at her, squinting his eyes and looking out the window at the Peace Memorial Plaza just a few hundred meters from his office.

"How do you know all of this? Wouldn't the OIA contact me directly?"

"Genette," Sam said, reaching into her purse and flashing her ID at him, "I am OIA. I only deal with domestics – the foreign department wants to use you to locate people."

"Let's say I do?"

"Let's say we give you a lifetime pension and make sure all your dreams come true."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you can write newspaper articles for the rest of your life and regret having wasted this opportunity. You're a celebrity in and ob yourself Genette. We can't just have some nobody reporter or some rookie agent questioning the Belkans. Everyone knows you now..."

Genette looked out his window at Peace Plaza. The three flags – Yuktobanian, Osean, and the Razgriz flag all waved as one in the wind. Thinking back to Nagase, would he be an agent of peace or a harbinger of war if he accepted?"

"Can you tell me what I'll be looking for?"

"That's classified until you're in Belka."

"How long would I be staying there?"

"Not sure."

"Then why should I go? What's over there as a story?

Genette turned around and reached for the door handle when he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Say, Albert...have you ever heard of a group called 'The Grey Men'?"

Genette paused, slowly turning around to face Sam before sitting down behind his desk.

"I may have an inkling of them. Enlighten me."


	3. Part of the Plan, Part I

**ACE COMBAT: THE GREY MEN**

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of this fanfiction. All characters and locations are owned or inspired by Namco's Ace Combat series. All aircraft described are not of my creation and are the property of their designer company and/or Namco.

**OADF MISSION LOG 06-06-2011**

**SOMEWHERE OVER BELKA**

**12:00**

"Hey Grimm..."

"Yeah Nagase?"

"Did you hear what the senator said in the briefing – Blaze is heading up this mission."

"And a Brigadier General, too...geez. If only we were so lucky?"

"Quit the chatter you two. We're radio silent until we enter Belka."

"Didn't you see the crater back there? We're over Belka right now!"

The sun disappeared over the peak of a nearby mountain, and on the ground, thousands of feet below, the suffering of the Belkan people was epitomized in the charred, black soil.

"That crater used to be the town of Mazra – over five thousand people died in that explosion," Nagase said, looking down in pity upon the tragic Earth below.

They were all silent, each pilot surveying the chaos and destruction beneath them. Were it not for the mission, they would be lamenting in prayer.

"Attention flight lead Archer, this is AWACS call sign Hammerhead, do you read me?"

"Roger that, Hammerhead, go ahead."

"You are to continue your mission, flying under one thousand feet at vector one-five-zero. Do you copy?"

"Understood Hammerhead. Archer out. Okay guys, this is it."

From the view of his cockpit, Grimm could see Nagase and Snow strapping their oxygen masks on. The early morning fog was only starting to lift just now, and the Belkan city of Orben came into view. The international airport – along with Orben's air force base – were built alongside Orben Lake on the far edge of the city.

"Hammerhead to Archer, all aircraft are cleared to engage."

Their job was simple – provide air support and escort the OIA helicopter to the destination and fire on Belkan military and industrial targets to act as a distraction while Pelham and Whitcomb infiltrated the city.

"Roger that, Hammerhead. Archer, engaging."

"Edge, engaging."

"Swordsman, engaging."

"Thunderhead, engaging."

"Roger that, Razgriz one, two, three, four – confirm weapons release."

The four jets ripped the air just a few meters above the city skyline; the bright flash of burning airport hangers giving evidence to their presence.

"Archer, this is Hammerhead – seeing two bogeys en route from vector one-eight-zero. Could be civilian. Standbye."

"Archer to Thunderhead, go check it out."

"Yes, sir!"

The lieutenant's plane broke formation as the rest of the squadron banked left to take another pass at the airport. Soaring past a local church tower, Upham pitched the nose upward towards the two incoming bogeys, trying to gain confirmation on his IFF.

"Thunderhead to Hammerhead, one of them is a transport plane. No markings. Other bogey is transport helicopter. Suspect no armaments."

"Roger. Do not engage, Thunderhead. I repeat, do not engage – armed aircraft are targets only."

"Roger that, re-engaging authorized targets."

No sooner had Upham tilted his nose downward for a pass by the lake that the familiar orange glow of explosions filled his cockpit. Looking over to the left was the airport's control tower, collapsing from the detonation of a bomb. He could see the red and blue flashes of emergency vehicles throughout the city and, if he concentrated enough, the startled heads of the Belkan citizens below, twisting their heads to the sky to see who was the aggressor.

"Archer to Thunderhead – objective alpha complete, rendezvous before the airbase."

"Hammerhead to all Razgriz units, full weapons release authorized on airbase."

"Roger that, Hammerhead. Swordsman, guns, guns, guns."

Just beyond the rim of the town Upham could see one of the black fighters release a burst from their cannons, setting something off in the airbase that exploded. Air raid sirens could be heard just behind him. The radio interference coming from the emergency Belkan communications was crippling – they tangled up every frequency putting a general civil and military alert throughout the entirety of their southern provinces.

"Damn it!"

"Swordsman, what's wrong!"

"I got hit by the AA guns by the lake front. Vertical stabilizer feels funny, but I'm okay."

"Hammerhead to Thunderhead, you are the only plane close enough to the lake to take out the AA battery, do you see it?"

"Roger that. Going in for a full weapons release now."

The lake front had suddenly lit up with AA fire – mobile gun batteries that had been hidden inside of picturesque mansions were sending a hellish storm up towards the heavens. Upham flew towards the lake, barely missing the steeple of the Orben cathedral before dropping the rest of his bomb payload over the collection of mansions. He could feel the heat from the cockpit."

"Thunderhead to Archer – I'm out of ordinance."

"Roger, I think we've caused enough mayhem. What say you?"

"Where are our boys?"

"Here we are! Foxtrot One-Bravo, payload released and returning to base. We could use an escort."

"Roger that, Foxtrot One-Bravo. Razgriz squadron final weapons release, then return to base...."

**JUST OUTSIDE OF ORBEN, PRINCIPALITY OF BELKA**

**12:55**

"Well, that was a mighty fine fireworks display if I do say so myself," the colonel said, clapping as the fighters screeched overhead. They had been deposited on a hill just outside of Orben, covered by a thicket of trees to cover their landing, they had both changed into casual Belkan farmer's clothes just before they landed, their OIA jumpsuits keeping them well insulated against the crushing cold of Belka's western mountain air.

"So...now that the flyboys have done their job, it's time to do ours. Where the hell is Schroeder?" the colonel asked, brushing some dirt from his pants and hiding a combat knife inside his sock.

"Intelligence reports had indicated that he was at Orben Air Force Base reviewing the military garrison there. But that was three days ago. No one in the OIA knows where he's been since."

"You're serious now? We have the second largest military on the planet and we can't find a goddamn enemy general? Even one that says 'here I am, come kill me! I'm stupid enough to visit a base along the border of my enemies!'"?

"I think you need to calm down."

"When I'm sober."

"You're not drunk."

"But not sober, either!" the colonel said, looking out towards the city while the lieutenant was left to shake his head and walk up beside him.

"Look...there's a pretty significant army garrison here at Orben. Razgriz just bombed the living hell out of their barracks. It would be uncouth of him to simply stay in the capital and issue a public statement – you and I both know that's not how the Belkans operate."

The colonel nodded his head, taking a sip from his flask and kneeling down on the ground.

"Yeah, I know that. Even if he's not in Orben, he'll come to us eventually...only question is when, and how?"

Lieutenant Whitcomb nodded, heading down the hill and towards the city, he stopped momentarily when the colonel didn't get up.

"Well," he paused for a moment. "You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses...I'm just thinking – that military transport plane, the one that just came in and landed during all those explosions..."

"I was wondering why those flyboys didn't shoot the damn thing out of the sky."

"Yeah...who do you think that was? I mean, it wasn't marked with any insignia of the Belkan military..."

"Maybe it was civilian?"

"A civilian plane landing at a military installation when a civilian airport is less than a few miles away? Come on..."

"Well, whatever it is, we certainly won't find out what's going on by standing around here....come on, the back roads leading into town are a few miles east of here, let's move out."

Whitcomb proceeded down the hill before he heard the colonel run to him and felt his hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he was shaking his head.

"We can't move down the hill sir?"

"Do you think it'd be normal for two farmers to be walking into town on a national highway after the city's been bombed?"

They started moving due north, towards the village of farming commune of Rimi - the black smoke of Orben still choking the air of the countryside, while a few hundred miles away the clear skies of Oured were disturbed every few minutes by the abrupt and violent perturbations of some of the largest aircraft ever known.

**OURED, OSEAN FEDERATION**

**13:30**

"Well, here are your papers and your dossier. You are to send a report back at least once per day on the laptop we've provided you. There is to be no contact with anyone in Osea during the mission, understand? Now...before you go, do you have anymore questions?"

"Yeah..." Genette paused, looking around the terminal while people shuffled by. A few wanderers stopped to stare at him or take a picture, but never to get his autograph. He was famous, but not on the level of OBC star reporters Jake Howell or Lois Macy. He was a good journalist and nothing more...maybe this opportunity could change that?

"You said I'd be leaving with a camera man...I don't see him." Genette looked around the terminal, but there was nobody near him that had a press badge or even a home video camera. And, to be honest, he felt slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, well...."

"Sorry I'm late!" a loud, booming voice echoed through his part of the terminal, before Genette and Sam both turned to face the man.

"Whoa – when did-"

"Ah! Mr. Buchner, I'm glad you could join us!" Sam cried out, taking off her sunglasses to hug the man before they both turned to face Genette.

"Sorry, I just had to drop Kirk off with a friend for a while. Most animals don't survive the radiation up there in Belka. Genette? You look like you've seen a ghost? What's wrong?"

"Pops!"

"Hey, you act surprised."

"I...I though you retired!"

"Me? No. Ever since I defected I've been doing some side work with the OIA. Before now nothing more than giving information regarding some of the airbases I was stationed at or detailing the nature of the Belkan political system. Now I can get some revenge for what they did to my Belka. It's good that I know Belkan, otherwise you'd be lost trying to get to the bathroom over in Belka!"

Pops had as big of a smile on his face as his muscles would allow. He'd aged little since Genette saw him last, and by God was probably a good ten pounds skinnier.

"_Air Ixiom Flight 419 heading to Dinsmark, Belka is now boarding. All passengers with first class tickets..."_

"Well, there's your flight – remember your mission. The future of Osea...maybe the future of this world depends on it."

Sam nodded at the two of them before putting her sunglasses on and crossing her arms until they both crossed through security. Now and forever, those that launched the world into war would be held responsible for their sins.


	4. Off the Trail, but still on the Hunt

**ACE COMBAT: THE GREY MEN**

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of this fanfiction. All characters and locations are owned or inspired by Namco's _Ace Combat_ series. All aircraft described are not of my creation and are the property of their designer company and/or Namco.

**Air Ixiom Flight 419**

**Airspace over the Osean state of Galen**

"Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, there, uh, appears to have been an incident in Southern Belka. I wasn't expressly told what it was, but all inbound international flights to Belka are being redirected at this time. Our flight will be landing in Directus in about an hour's time, we've..."

"Hey, Pops. An incident? What do you suppose it means?"

"Well..." Pops paused for a second, taking a look over Ginette's shoulder and through the window to peer down upon the land below. The hills were getting steeper and the general architecture of the towns below more Medieval – a definite signal that they were closing in on Belka. "It could either mean that the Belkan leadership has gone off the deep end again and expelling all foreign influence just like it did back in 2000...or..."

"Or?"

"Or the shit's hit the fan and we can't get into Belka by air..."

The man in the aisle seat in front of Pops got up and donned a baseball cap before walking up to a stewardess, opening his cuff for her before held out her arm and started to lead him toward the cockpit.

"That man...I think he might be a sky marshal..."

"A sky marshal? Aren't they just figures of conspiracy theories?" Ginette said as he craned his neck over the seat to take another glimpse at the man with the baseball cap. "Osea can't.."

"Son, there's a lot of things Osea 'can't' do. Trust me, they exist, and I think that man might be one and know what the hell's going on..."

Pops got up out of his seat while Ginette tried to reach out his arm to grab him, prevented only by the fact that Pops was walking at quite a brisk pace for normal walking speed on an airplane.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to sit down."

It was the same flight attendant who had escorted the sky marshal to the front of the plane that extended her arm to Pops' chest. The passengers around him turned their heads as Pops reached into his pants and took out his wallet, flashing the stewardess his OIA and OADF ID cards. She reached for the OIA card and kept turning her head between the card and Pops, before handing the card back to Pops and stepping aside.

"You may pass, sir."

"Yes, thank you," Pops said, putting his ID back in his pocket and headed down the aisle. The man with the baseball cap was nowhere to be seen, before he rounded a corner that led from the flight attendant's seating area to the cockpit and he felt the cold steel of a pistol against his head.

"Now now, is this how you treat all your coworkers? You must be real fun at the office party."

Pops stared straight ahead, letting the sky marshal lower his weapon before facing him.

"I'm guessing if you're a hijacker you would've said something stupider than that. Who are you?"

"Me? Well..." Pops took out his ID again and gave it to the sky marshal for inspection.

"Peter Beagle...Osean Intelligence, formerly OADF...alright, what are you doing up here?"

"Let me ask you that first, considering the OIA's actions are answerable to congress and yours are a complete goddamn mystery."

"Alright, the pilot's activated the panic button in the plane that signals the resident sky marshal to come to the cockpit. They haven't opened up yet, but..."

Just as the sky marshal said that, the two men heard the steel door to the cockpit unlock and stared at it, hearing one of the pilots grunt to get it open from the inside.

"That damn thing is heavy to get open! Marshal, you came, and...sir? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same, Nagase!"

**OIA**

**Somewhere in Belka**

"What's the matter, Whitcomb, you look tired," Pelham said, half-heartedly kicking a rock between his feet on the road to Orben. Rimi, The farming village "just outside" of Orben turned out to several kilometers from the city center. The village they had been looking for, Felfen-Manz, was in the opposite direction.

"When we get back, I'm going into the topography intelligence department at the Citadel and kicking everyone's ass!"

"Room."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Topographical intelligence room. During President Harling's budget cuts, the OIA severely downsized non-operational departments. Topographical intelligence being one of them." Colonel Pelham couldn't really bring himself to be interested in the conversation, instead focusing on his rock. A few tours of duty in Usea having given him the insight to easily amuse himself. At least the Belkan countryside looked halfway decent, unlike the unending sandy hell of the Amber-Lambert Desert.

"I can't believe I voted for that guy..."

"Yeah."

"You know he planned on relinquishing control of the OMDF Marines to the Assembly of Nations before the war!"

"Yeah."

"And you know-"

"Hey, Whitcomb?" the colonel asked, stopping to turn around, his arms raised lazily behind his head.

"Yeah, colonel?"

"Please shut up."

"Y...yeah. Sorry about that."

They continued walking towards Orben. Fields and fields of wheat had been the most interesting thing they had seen since leaving Rimi. The road, which was little more than a dirt path, was deserted. The lieutenant kept to himself, staring down at the ground just as the colonel was, only without a rock and slightly embarrassed of himself. The bright side of staring at a patch of dirt in front of you while moving was it kept your mind from thinking too much. The down side was he didn't notice that the colonel had stopped and walked right into him.

"Well hello there, Sally. I didn't know you wanted to get closer to me."

"Eh? Geez colonel, why'd you stop?"

"Simple, my oblivious friend," the colonel swept his hand in front of him, revealing at least three paths in front of them. Only one had signage and was obviously a rural connection to the much larger Trans-Belka Expressway.

"Well..."

"Well?"

"Well, which day do you think we should go?" the colonel asked.

"Don't you have a map!"

The colonel took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and threw it onto the ground, pointing at the direction from whence they came.

"You honestly want me to trust the guys who made this map? For all we know it could tell us we're right on top of Dinsmark. I'm not...do you hear that?"

"Hear what? The birds? The wind?"

"Two things: first off, stop being an idiot. Second-"

"That whirring?"

"Yeah, what the hell is that? Shhhh..."

Pelham held his finger up to his lips, while they both stared around the intersection. It was a low whirring sound. Almost like a jet engine. But there weren't any jets in sight. At least not in the sky.

"What the...?"

And then it got louder. Much louder. In the span of seven seconds, to be precise, which was quite enough for the two of them to recognize the need to protect their ear drums and drop to the ground, gripping their heads, immediately followed by a supermassive plane just barely clearing the treeline directly above them, coming from the expressway link road. Even colonel Pelham couldn't stand the vibration from such loud, massive engines, if they could be called that, flying so low to him. He could _feel_ his very insides shaking.

Whatever the hell it was, it wasn't civilian, but it had no immediately discernible identifying marks on it, either. As soon as it flew far enough, lieutenant Whitcomb was already on his feet and helping the colonel up from the ground.

"What the hell was THAT!" That wasn't covered in our Op-Order."

"That...I could've sworn that was the HB-0 they shot down sixteen years ago?"

"HB-0, sir?"

"You were too young, but the military was all over some wreckage of a giant superplane some mercenaries shot down during the Belkan War. The HB-0, or Hubert for short. Giant son of a bitch that thing was."

"Why the hell do the Belkans even _have_ something like that now?"

"If I knew I'd tell you...what I want to know is where the hell that thing..."

Before he could finish colonel Pelham had started off towards the expressway, dashing around in his farmer's disguise while Whitcomb stood there stupidly for about thirty seconds, alternating his head between the sky and where Pelham just was.

"Colonel, you know you can't very well run off by yourself..." more muttering to himself than trying to communicate with him. "Damn it...I swear to god if you get hit by a car on that freeway..."

Chasing after him, something didn't feel right about this road. As he progressed, he noticed the trees getting shorter and shorter, to the point where the entire road was winding around bushes and low-level vegetation. Still no sign of the colonel. The dirt started to give way to gravel, and as he winded past a small thicket of trees, he found the colonel crouching down behind a row of bushes. And while the road continued further to the left, he found the colonel quietly staring at the ground in front of him, sipping his flask.

"So? Found what you were looking for?"

"Oh yeah...big time," the colonel said, giving Whitcomb a wink and offering him his flask.

"What do you mean?"

"Take your binoculars and head two hundred meters down the road in the direction you were just going, then look to the right. Oh, and at least crouch or go prone, but for the love of god don't be standing up."

"What?"

"Just go. I'll save a sip for you."

Whitcomb took off when he saw Pelham break out a giant grin, urging him to go forward. Counting the distance by his paces, Whitcomb still couldn't see anything on any side of him. The was a sharp turn in the road up ahead. Slowing to a walking pace and looking down over the edge of the road, where he suddenly learned that they were high above a small valley. But still nothing of interest.

"What the hell, colonel...can't just up and tell me what he saw up t...oh...yeah, I would've called bullshit if I hadn't seen this myself either..."

Whitcomb stopped immediately at the turn in the road. He didn't even need binoculars – down in the valley was a _massive_ air base. Two parallel runways ran past a series of hangers a barracks, before the buildings gave way to what seemed like another runway leading down into a tunnel.

"Heh. Just like the bad guys, putting important stuff in tunnels, now what the..."

"I told you to use your binoculars. It's not the base I'm worried about, it's those planes..."

"Gah!" the lieutenant felt his heart skip, turning around to find the colonel beside him with his own pair of binoculars out, shaking his head. "The planes? Why?"

"Right beneath their tail numbers are the numbers '8492'."

"The number of the Grey Men?"

"No, the squadron number of the Belkan aggressor squadron which acted as a fifth column in the last war."

"We didn't even _see_ this place coming in. Where the hell are we? Nowhere near Orben I suppose..."

"Perhaps it's for the best, considering our fine friends in the Air Force bombed the living hell out of their local air...hey, wait a minute...do you see that plane right over there past the control tower? The transport..."

The colonel handed Whitcomb the binoculars, choosing the go prone and stare down at the base.

"Yeah...it's weird looking. No tail number, no emblem, no flag..."

"Wasn't there a plane _just like that_ near Orben?"

"I...you don't think it could be the same one, could you?"

They could barely make out individual figures from the distance. Even with the binoculars the finest details they could see on the airmen were the general characteristics of their uniforms. But over by the control tower were a group of men who clearly had no business at a military installation so remote. One was wearing a suit, and the rest were wearing full black bodysuits.

"Hey colonel, do you see those guys that look like ninjas down there?"

"Ninjas?"

"Yeah, there's about eight of them guarding one guy in a suit..."

"Well I'll be...that's the BSP [Belkan State Police]...only _really_ high level members of government and industry are protected by those guys...someone like Herman Schroeder perhaps?"

"Can't be...Schroder's military and this guy's dressed as a civilian."

"Whoever he is I'm sure the OIA would love to have a word with him regardless, we should get down there..."

"Colonel...we're dressed as farmers."

"And we came from a field! Besides..." the colonel said, lifting up his pant legs to reveal an assortment of miniature knives and pistols. "No one ever said farmers can't pick a fight."

**OBC Weekday Report**

**AM 1010**

"...beating the Oured Patriots 108-100 to secure a spot in the semifinals. Back to you, Gary!"

"Thanks, Jay. Welcome back to the OBC Weekday Report, all the news, all the time. It's twenty-two minutes past the hour, which means it's time for international news. Belka has closed its borders and airspace to all international traffic. The Osean Finance Minister has responded by condemning the Belkan government for impeding international trade in the region. Minister of Foreign Affairs, Alice Gracy, has stated she intends to take the issue up to the World Economic Council if the borders are not reopened within seven days...

Multinational Osean conglomerate General Industries Limited has stated its intent to expand its mining operations in the Faith Park valley system despite repeated outcries from the republics of North Point and San Salvacion...

A bomb exploded inside a train station in Wellow today earlier this morning, luckily, nobody was injured. Police are reviewing security videos to find a possible suspect.

That's it for international news this hour. I'm Gary Powers. Up next is Julia Hastings with..."


End file.
